No Way Out: The 148th Annual Hunger Games
by Xhaous
Summary: "Nothing is more frightening than a fear you cannot name." This year, in the 148th Hunger Games, this quote could not hold more true. What is seen may be terrifying... but it's that which isn't seen that will kill you. And with no way out, who will be able to survive this brutal arena? [SYOT CLOSED]
1. Prologue Pt 1: That Which Isn't Apparent

**Prologue Part 1: That Which Isn't Apparent**

**Gamemaker Facilities: Control Room**

* * *

**Head Gamemaker Magnus Erwin**

* * *

It's at times like this that I wonder why I was ever insane enough to take the job as Panem's Head Gamemaker.

I mean sure, my position has its perks; I own a massive house along the Capitol Waterfront, I have the undying respect of the bulk of the city, and I was in President Cordelia's good graces. But was all of that really worth it when I have to sit here in my office at three in the morning for weeks on end, every year, knowing that if I didn't finish these damn arena design plans I likely wouldn't see another sunset? I remember the stories Fiora told me about Ackelberry, the Head Gamemaker before me. Apparently he didn't meet the deadline to finish the design plans for the 136th Games… and he, his wife, and their two little girls were found decomposing in a drainage pipe near the Waterfront several weeks later.

It's a lovely thought knowing that even the slightest screwup on my part could put my family in that position. I shudder at the thought. I can't mess up. I can't-

"Magnus? I didn't expect you to still be here."

I jump at the sudden voice, hastily spinning my chair about to meet the newest arrival. She's standing up beside the two metallic doors leading in and out of the control room, long and slender hands resting on the glass banister, gazing down from the raised platform at me with steely grey eyes. God, I hate those eyes. The cold emptiness to them was always so different from the bright contacts so many of my peers seem to have taken up nowadays. Hell, even I had started wearing a pair of radiant green contacts! But not her. Also unlike most other Capitol women, she isn't wearing some gaudy, magnificent outfit; only a long, silken black dress covers the woman's lithe frame, blonde hair tied back in a severe bun.

Gazing down upon me, like a sovereign addressing her people, is none other than President Cordelia Knighton.

"Ah, President Cordelia," I manage to get out out, quickly standing up from my glass swivel chair. "I wasn't expecting you here this late."

"Just thought I'd check on your work," Cordelia replies, stepping delicately around the railing and down the set of black stairs, heels clicking on the metal. "And we've been over the fact that there's no need to address me as President. I consider you my friend, so Cordelia will do just fine."

Isn't it funny how quickly Cordelia changes her opinion on someone? I'm willing to bet she said those same words to Ackelberry before she had him killed.

"Well it's very nice to see you," I smile nervously, watching as the president steps down between the rest of the empty Gamemaker control consoles until she stands beside me, looking down at the touchscreen in front of me.

"I'm sure you have something absolutely magnificent planned out this year, correct? I would love if you could outdo that incredible performance from last year. Need to keep the viewers coming back for more, am I right?"

It's not as if I have much choice. If I don't outdo myself, I'll get the Ackelberry Treatment.

"You bet they will be," I reply, feigning excitement, sitting back down in my chair and swiping various edit boxes across the screen. "Would you like me to show you the blueprints so far?"

"Yes, that would be lovely."

I continue to tap and scroll across the touchscreen until, with a glow of blue light, the massive arena blueprint manifests itself above the white holo-projector situated in the center of the control center. Text boxes and blinking arrows hover over various points on the map, indicating areas of importance.

I glance up at Cordelia, who's grey eyes are silently skimming the blueprint, praying for a positive reaction. Getting her approval means my guaranteed survival for another year.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Cordelia gives a light chuckle. "I must say, this is positively sadistic. The poor little tributes won't have any idea what hit them."

Cordelia seems to approve. At least, I'm getting some positive vibes off of her so far.

"Yeah, that was the idea," I reply. "I want the arena to seem simple and generic at first, make them comfortable with it. Then, when no one expects it, I'll show them the true terrors of my masterpiece."

Her long fingernails tap thoughtfully on the metal console beside my arm, each beat sending a wave of goosebumps up my arm. God, even when she's happy, Cordelia terrifies the living hell out of me.

"It's certainly different than what we've seen in recent years. A much more subtle delivery of majesty and creativity when compared with past arenas. I'll be honest with you Magnus, this is a much more interesting concept and idea than your last few maps. Even last year's can't stand up to this one."

"So… do you want me to get in touch with the build team? Tell them to start working while I add the last details to the blueprints here?"

"Yes, I'll review the blueprints in more detail tomorrow. Probably just a few touchups to make, and then it'll be ready to go."

I give an inward cheer. Cordelia is completely onboard with this year's arena. She didn't even seem to mind that the blueprinting wasn't finished yet. I made a mental note to thank Fiora for her help in brainstorming next time I ran into her.

"Well, I'll likely be heading home soon Cordelia," I smile, genuinely for the first time since my leader had arrived in the Control Room. "I would recommend you do the same. If we're getting in touch with Girdon, we'll want all of our energy. You know how he can be sometimes."

"Believe me, I most certainly do," Cordelia chuckled, making her way up the flight of stairs between the vacant control monitors. She stops at the top, momentarily, and glances back down at me, a pensive look coating her face.

"I really am glad I decided to recruit you from the districts Magnus. Your creativity and intellect truly is unrivaled. I can't think of another Gamemaker I've worked with in recent years who is so full of ideas as you. Never cease to impress me."

With that, Cordelia sweeps away, her sharp footsteps disappearing as she exits through the sliding metal doors. Gone just as quickly as she came.

But I can't help staying back and admiring my work of art one more time. The art that had likely saved me from Cordelia's wrath once again. It really was strange thinking about how much I owed to this mass of pixels and code. My entire lifestyle, and the very lives of myself and those I loved, rested with this computer program.

But no, I had to remind myself. It may be a computer program now, but once Girdon and his team got going, my magnum opus would become a reality. And finally, when 24 unsuspecting children were forced to experience my arena firsthand… well, that was when things would get very interesting.

That was when things would get fun.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Hello everyone, and welcome to the 148th Hunger Games! This story will be an SYOT (Submit Your Own Tribute) which, for those who may not know, is a type of story in the Hunger Games fandom where you, the reader, gets to create and submit the tributes that will battle it out in the arena. The character application and helpful tips on what to put and not put in your app can be found on my profile. I will be accepting applications until March 1st, though I may extend or reduce the deadline depending on the number of applications I get. Each person may submit up to 2 tributes, and may resubmit if their first applications are not accepted.

But the absolute most important thing to remember in this whole process is to **NOT POST YOUR APP AS A REVIEW**. Every character application should be sent to me as a PM. Any that are posted as a review will be disregarded and ignored.

Good luck with applications! I'm sure I'll see some great characters from this community!


	2. Prologue Pt 2: That Which Is Apparent

**Prologue Part 2: That Which Is Apparent**

**Capitol Waterfront: High-Rise Bar**

* * *

**Gamemaker Fiora Elphinstone**

* * *

Damn, I hate Hunger Games rerun night. It always seems to bring out the obnoxious, drunken dregs of society, all so eager to watch teenagers tear each other apart.

And of course Capitol TV is airing HGR the one night I decide to go out for a drink.

It's pathetic, really. Every one of the dozens of glass screens set into the various walls of the High-Rise Bar is playing through the end of last year's games. Large groups of gaudy Capitol citizens, most in various drunken states, stand grouped around each of the screens, cheering on Amar as he beats his competitor's brains out with a brick. The Hunger Games are great and all, and I understand the meaning behind them…

…But there's just so much blood. My hemophobia definitely does make running the Games hard sometimes, but I've learned to look away at the worst moments. Thank God Magnus realized how intelligent I was; otherwise, I'd be right back where I was before.

"Another drink madam?"

The bartender snaps me out of my reverie, leaning expectantly over the glass bar top. The mustachioed man looks tired, his blue locks of hair hanging limp over his face. Granted, if I knew I'd be herding drunken cattle out of my bar in a few hours, I wouldn't look that great either.

"Yeah, I'll take the same thing."

The bartender nods, before turning away to attend to my drink. I give another sigh, turning and glancing at one of the holo-screens hanging from the back corner of the bar. The 147th had been brutal; one of the tributes had gone cannibalistic and had eaten six of his competitors alive, the bulk of the killing had been done with blunt objects… it really was a great shame, especially considering the high quality of the map Magnus and I had created. Almost felt like a waste when you consider the Games ended in four days. Fortunately, President Cordelia had been very pleased by the arena, leaving our families safe for another year. Not that I had a family to go home to, but at least I was safe from Thorn and his Peacekeepers for a little while longer.

The bartender places another glass of sparkling purple liquid in front of me, before walking down the counter to serve another customer. I take a sip of the wine, drumming my fingers on the glass bar top. It had been a long day at the Gamemaker Facilities today. Magnus and I were behind on the arena plans, and apparently President Cordelia would be coming to assess our progress within the next few days. My Gamemaker companion seemed relatively confident that the creativity of this year's arena would distract Cordelia from our lack of progress, but I wasn't so certain. And if Cordelia did decide that our work was unsatisfactory…

Well, it was safe to say a new Head Gamemaker would be brought on next year and I would be returned to the hellhole I've worked so hard to climb out of. I don't know how I'd live if my one meaning in life, to climb the Capitol socioeconomic ladder, was shattered.

Really hoping that Magnus is right about Cordelia.

As if on queue, I hear the sliding glass doors the mark the entrance to the bar slide open. The bartender, currently busy wiping out a spiral shaped glass at one of several sinks set into the wall behind the bar, immediately stops what he's doing.

"Ah, Mr. Erwin," he smiles, silver plated teeth glinting in the bar's flashing neon lights. "I'm honored to see you here at my bar. Please, take a seat, take a seat."

"Thank you," Magnus's smooth, lilting voice responds as he takes a seat in the bar chair beside me. "I'll just take Snow's Moon, small."

"Right away sir," the bartender smiles once more, grabbing a glass. "At your service, my dear Head Gamemaker."

The Head Gamemaker gives the bartender a warm smile, before turning towards me. "You will not believe who paid me a visit a few hours ago," he says, voice quickening with excitement.

Oh lovely. Guessing games. My favorite.

"I don't know," I reply, taking a sip from my drink, ignoring another round of drunken cheering from the television screens. "Please feel free to enlighten me on your midnight visitor."

Magnus gives another massive smile. God, he's in a good mood today. "None other than Panem's dear president. And guess what? She seems to really like what we've done with the arena!"

It takes a minute for that to process. Magnus had been right; Cordelia had actually appreciated the creativity behind this year's arena. I'm safe until the 149th.

"I… wow…" I manage to get out. "I'd hoped for the best… but actually knowing that she likes it…"

"Didn't I tell you?" Magnus replies, grabbing his drink from the bartender's hands. "We had absolutely nothing to worry about. President Cordelia would see our genius; I knew it all along!"

But despite the bravado and confidence, I can tell that Magnus is just as relieved as I am. We've worked together too long for him to fool me with this act.

"I say this calls for a celebration," Magnus laughs, raising his filled glass above his head. "A toast to both of our successful futures, and too another spectacular year as Gamemakers."

"Can't forget a toast to endless reruns of last year's Games," I smirk, raising my own glass up to meet his. "To another successful year."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yes, I know that this chapter was very short/ felt like filler. Apologies about that, but I want to wait for the bulk of the tribute apps to come in before jumping into the story. But before anything, I just want to thank everyone for their tremendous support on the first half the the prologue. That tiny chapter amassed 10 followers, 6 favorites, and 7 reviews, and I am grateful for every single one of you. Thank you!

Tribute submissions are still open! Spots are running out though (at the time of posting, I believe there are 8 spots left), so if you're interested in submitting a tribute, go check out my profile. You will find the application and other important information regarding this application process within.

But so far, I've gotten a bunch of great tributes, and I can't wait to share these characters with the rest of my reader base. I'm hoping that the first Reaping chapter will be out one week from now... and that's when things'll get good. Once again, thank you so much to every single one of you for your amazing support, and I hope you're as excited as I am for what's to come...


	3. Chapter 1: Reaping of Champions

**Chapter 1: Reaping of Champions**

**District 1: Justice Building**

* * *

**District Escort Stellas Berghatta**

* * *

Oh, how I love Reaping Day in District 1. There's always so much excitement, so much happiness… especially compared to District 8. Thank Panem I was promoted to work in such a happier district. Plus, the feast held after the Reaping was always so delightful. Even the best chefs in the Capitol didn't make cheesecake as delicious as District 1!

And that exciting moment of the Reaping is drawing ever closer! All around me, despite the fact that the sun has hardly risen, district labor workers are furiously preparing for this momentous event; the long, metal sign-in tables have been carried out from storage, glass partitions have been erected at various points across the courtyard in order to divide the age groups, and the two massive glass bulbs, each containing thousands of slips of paper, have been hauled up onto the stone balcony in front of the Justice Building. Of course, the names within these glass spheres would likely never be read. Those excited young District 1 kids almost always volunteered immediately!

"Stellas! What a lovely surprise to see you here this early!"

I smile, turning to face Darius McAdams, head Peacekeeper and Governor of District 1. He always was such a nice man… but I am reminded once again of the poor fashion rampant in the districts. His skin is marred with wrinkles, pimples, and blemishes, his black hair seems to grow more and more grey with every passing year, and his black suit is just so plain. It was always so shocking to me how far ahead fashion and makeup trends found in the Capitol were when compared to the districts. Such a culture shock.

"Darius!" I reply, extending one of my slender hands to shake his. "It feels like it's been forever since we last saw each other."

"Ah, it hasn't been that long," he says, leaning up against the stone balustrade of the Justice Building's second floor balcony alongside me. "I was only last in the Capitol a few months ago. Remember, Magnus threw that party to celebrate the 147th Games? Ah yes, those were the times…"

I give a light laugh. "How have things been here in One? I saw the new spa and shopping complex down the street, so you can't be doing that bad!"

"President Knighton's administration was really quite generous with last year's Victor Donation. We got enough money to refurbish the Justice Building and install several luxuries around town. Folks around here are really eating up the new facilities; one of the perks of living in our fine district, isn't it?"

I nod, flashing Darius another of my false smiles. As great as he thought District 1 may be, it could and would never compare to the majesty of the Capitol. Even if this district's residents were given special perks none of the other district's received, District 1 would always be one rung down on the socioeconomic ladder.

"Anyways," Darius continues awkwardly, obviously noticing my shift in attitude. "My chefs have a wonderful feast prepared for the post-Reaping celebration, and we always need people to taste their delicacies. I hear that they're preparing an almond and chocolate cheesecake; if I remember right, you were quite the fan of that dish at last year's feast. Would you like to come along and give it a taste?"

"Why, of course!" I smile, immediately reverting back to my usual peppy self. It would do me no good for Darius to see my anti-District thoughts, no good at all. "I would absolutely love to give your cheesecake a try!"

"Excellent," Darius says, clapping his hands together in excitement. "Let us be off then!"

But as District 1's Head Peacekeeper turns away from me, I cannot help but sneer. I know how unsightly that must look, but Darius deserved nothing but. He may be a nice man… but he was nothing when compared to me. When compared to the Capitol. When compared with his savior, President Knighton. Sooner or later, Darius would learn that Panem's political game was not in his favor.

But right now, I might as well keep playing nice. Plus, there's always that perk of District 1 cheesecake.

**District 1: Residential Area**

* * *

**District Resident Jade Hale**

* * *

I've made it a habit to wake up before the sun rises on Reaping Day.

Normally, I'd climb the huge oak tree in our backyard, sitting on the uppermost branches and staring out at the horizon. It was peaceful up there, watching the sun rise, and the view helped calm my nerves. Because I wasn't like the other teenagers in District 1, fighting over who would volunteer for the Games. I wasn't as strong, as experienced in the art of combat, or as charismatic as my peers. They were raised solely so they could win glory for their lineage.

But I was raised to work, and help support my struggling family.

However, on that morning, the morning of the 148th Reaping Day, I didn't climb the oak tree because I was frightened of being Reaped, of leaving everything and everyone I knew behind. No, I climbed up the tree because this was likely the last chance I'd have to do so. Because this year, I was volunteering for the Games. Not for glory, and not for fame… but so I could heal my blind sister. My family didn't make enough money to cure her, and I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands. After all, the massive sum of money the winner of the Games received would be more than enough to pay for the Capitol's revolutionary blindness treatment.

Then Sapphire could finally see the world, like she's always dreamed of.

But despite all of this positive thinking, despite me constantly reminding myself that this is the right thing to do… I can't help but think that this will be my last day in District 1. That this will likely be a one way trip.

I rest my back up against the rough bark of the oak, squinting as the first fingers of sunlight inch across the horizon, feeling a cool gust of wind tousle my golden blonde hair. From my perch, I can see the earliest of risers stepping out from their houses, most still in a bathrobe and sipping a mug of coffee. They're all so carefree, so happy… and all I can do is stew in my misery and try to work up the courage to do what must be done.

Suddenly, I hear the telltale squeak of my family's backdoor swinging open. A quick glance from my perch reveals that it's my dad. He looks exhausted; his long brown hair hangs over his face, his back is slightly hunched from years of diamond mining, and I can just make out the twin dark hoods beneath his eyes. Calix Hale is a hard-working, determined man… but I can tell he's burnt out. The hard work he performs on an almost daily basis has finally cracked the resolute shell that is my father.

If I win these Games, he'll never have to work again.

He leans up against the metallic doorframe, gazing up into the leafy arms of the oak. "Hey Jade," he shouts. "Come on down. Governor McAdams wants everyone in attendance at the square in about an hour."

So it's time. The life that I knew before this, a life where I had to work for everything, is coming to an end. Ahead of me is either death or happiness. I know I'm probably not coming back, but I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't at least try.

I slowly climb down from the tree, feeling the course veins etched into the bark beneath my fingertips. I want to remember this moment; the smell of the oak, the chirping of the birds, the rough bark. I probably won't get another moment like this before…

"Jade," Dad wearily calls. "Hurry up. Your mom bought you a new dress for the Reaping, and you know how long she can take with new clothes."

God, he's right. Mom'll have a hissy fit if I don't flaunt my newest dress. It's a nice gesture that she thought to buy me something, especially considering our family's limited income, but a rather unnecessary one. Will anyone care what I'm wearing when I step up onto that stage?

Finally I let go of the tree, feeling the cold dew and wet blades of grass beneath my feet. Slowly, I saunter away from the oak, trying to give off a calm and composed air; my parents cannot, will not, see the fear that I feel right now. If I'm going to leave them, I want it to be as emotionless and stoic a goodbye as possible.

Because if I let my guard down, I don't know if I can work up the courage to leave.

**District 1: Residential Area**

* * *

**District Resident Vanity Glass**

* * *

Reaping Day is here.

This is the first thought that runs through my head as I open my eyes. At long last, after years of waiting, my time to show the world what I'm made of is here. Panem better watch out, because Vanity Glass is about to enter the Hunger Games.

"Babe, is it time to get up already?"

I turn my head, gazing at Shaila. That blonde haired bombshell of a girlfriend is lying beside me, head resting on a pillow, slender fingers running up my bare chest. I've slept with a fair number of girls over the past few years, but damn is Shaila the best in bed. We didn't even go all the way last night, and she still blew me away… literally.

"Yeah sweetie, it is," I gently remove her hand from its resting spot on my side, clambering out of bed. "Besides, you might wanna run on home now. Reaping Day's today, and my parents don't exactly know you were here last night."

"Oh, that's right!" Shaila exclaims, grabbing her pair of lacy black panties from the wooden floor. "You're volunteering today, right?"

"You bet I am," I sneer, planting a light kiss on that porcelain forehead of hers. "The Capitol wants a good show every year, and yours truly is the best at putting on a show."

Shaila laughs at that, climbing out of bed and pulling a long, gaudy pink dress over her head. "You'll put on a great show, dearie. And when you come home victorious, we can both move into your big new mansion in Victor's Village! It'll be just the most lovely thing, and we can-"

Suddenly I hold a finger up, silencing her. I could have sworn I'd heard footsteps… oh crap, there they are again. Probably Mom, ready to gift me with a new outfit for the Reaping today. She's had a nasty habit of doting over me ever since her and Gallery left each other. As much as I love the attention, it really does get annoying.

"Mom's coming up," I hiss at Shaila. "Get under the bed; she'll get really pissed at you if she knows you were here."

"But sweetheart-"

"Shaila, get under the bed. Now."

I notice the look of shock that crosses her face at my sudden outburst. God, that girl can be annoying sometimes. She's one of the few who doesn't always listen to me, who doesn't worship me. If she wasn't so good at the physical aspects of our relationship, I would have left her for someone more obedient a long time ago. But my words must have gotten through to her for once, because Shaila throws herself under my large bed just as the wooden door to my bedroom eases slowly open.

Surprisingly enough, it's Preen at the door instead of Mom. My younger brother looks miserable, and I can't blame him; the little brat left with Gallery while I'd stayed behind with Mom. Our relationship had gone to hell ages ago, so it's definitely surprising to see him here. I can't remember the last time I've even spoken with Preen.

"Dad wanted me to come over," Preen grumbles, answering the unspoken question hanging between us. "He wants me to give you some piece of crap before you volunteer."

My brother pulls a glimmering locket from his jacket pocket, dropping it onto the dresser beside the door. It's a pretty piece of jewelry; the first rays of sunlight reaching through the curtained window of the room catch the small rubies embedded in the front of locket, firing a spectrum of glimmering light in all directions. Even if a locket isn't the most masculine piece of jewelry to wear, I'll be able to make it look good.

"Apparently it was Mom's," Preen explains, beginning to step out into the hall behind him. "Dad took it with him when he moved, and apparently thinks you should have it considering you're going into the Games this year. Try not to ruin it; he wants me to wear it when I volunteer in a few years. Some sort of family tradition crap or something."

And with that, Preen is gone, the door slamming behind him. Good riddance; I'll make sure that he's one of the people I cut ties with when I win. That moron won't get a single piece of the riches I'll amass once I win the Games.

"You know what, I'm coming out now," Shaila exclaims from her hiding spot. "This bed is rumpling my Reaping dress."

"Yeah, come on out," I say, not paying the girl much attention. No, my eyes are locked on the ruby-studded locket. Something about that piece of jewelry has me… entranced. I don't know if it's the way the light catches the gems or what, but that locket is just so pretty. Hell yes I'm bringing it to the Games with me.

"What was that about earlier?"

I snap around to face a glowering Shaila, her slender fingers smoothing out the wrinkles that had formed across the pink silk of her dress. "You yelled at me, and ordered me around like I was some idiot follower of yours. I'm your girlfriend; you're supposed to treat me better than that! I expect that you start treating me with a bit more respect from now on, and buy me lunch when you get back from-"

I really should consider breaking up with her and finding someone else to share my future wealth with. Shaila has that annoying tendency to be obnoxious and egocentric at the same time. She doesn't have that subtle humbleness that I, of course, possess; she's just all tears, conceit, and drama all the time.

"Maybe if you listened to me, we wouldn't be having this conversation," I snap back in retaliation. "Now leave. I have to get ready for the Reaping."

"Are you actually kicking me out? We had such an amazing bonding moment last night, and you just kick me out?"

"I'm not kicking you out," I sigh, feeling my annoyance towards Shaila continue to grow. "But I really do have to get ready for the Reaping. I'm volunteering today and I need to look my best, right?"

Shaila pauses for a long moment, obviously trying to comprehend my argument. I, personally, have had enough of this conversation. Attention deficit disorder makes prolonged chatter like this nearly impossible. The sooner she leaves, the happier I'll be.

"Okay dear," she finally says, smiling. "I get it. You're just stressed about the Reaping, and you want to make sure you look your best in front of everyone. I know that you'd never actually mean to yell at me like that." The shorter girl stands on her tiptoes, planting a kiss on my forehead. "I'll see you at the Reaping sweetie!"

With that, Shaila disappears out my bedroom door. I hear the clatter of her high-heeled sandals as she runs down the stairway. So much for keeping her presence a secret; the whole damn house probably knows about Shaila now. Intelligence at its finest, right there.

But now isn't the time to worry about that scatterbrained idiot. The Reaping is apparently starting early this year, and I can't be seen rushing in at the last second, bedraggled and out of breath! No, I want to walk gracefully into District 1's town square, flaunting my locket and showing everyone that Vanity Glass is not afraid of the Hunger Games.

I can see it now: I'll walk, calmly and serenely, among the frightened young masses of this district. Yes, many of them will try to act confident and masculine, but they will all bow in fear and respect when I walk among them. I'll have my new ruby locket flashing in the sunlight, I'll make sure my hair is done up in the most attractive of fashions, and I'll flirt with every star-struck girl to cross my path. I'll need a new girlfriend once I come from these Games anyway, and what better place to start looking than the Reaping?

Oh yes, very soon now, the world will know the name of Vanity Glass. I'll step out from the shadows of my older and younger brothers, and show Panem that there is no greater Glass than I.

**District 1: Residential Area**

* * *

**District Resident Jade Hale**

* * *

"Jade, dearie, can you spin around again?"

I oblige to Mom's wishes, spinning about on my heel once again. The flame red dress ripples around me; bright tongues of fire lighting up our otherwise dark living room. I hear Mom squeal in approval, clapping her hands together in happiness.

"I knew you'd look so splendid in that dress!" she exclaims. "See Jade, I told you I'd never let you down! As soon as my keen eye alighted on that masterpiece, I knew that you were meant to wear it."

As much as Mom may annoy me at times, I have to admit the dress is beautiful. It's incredibly simplistic; no extra jewels or gaudy accessories, just a single piece of red silk wrapping down to my knees. A pair of plain, black high-heeled shoes sit on the living room table in front of me. Mom claims that clothes shopping is a lot like jewelry creation; dark and light colors always look incredible together. And for once, it would seem she was right.

"I'm sure that you look amazing Jade," Sapphire chimes in from her spot beside Dad on the couch.

Tears immediately spring to my eyes at the mere sound of my sister's voice; Sapphire may be my entire world, but I'm going to give my life up for her. A certain level of gloom and desolation comes along with that. But those tears are blinked out of my eye just as quickly as they came. I'd told myself that I would show no emotion, and that couldn't change now.

"Thank you, Sapphire," I smile, voice cracking ever so slightly.

"Well," Mom says, all silliness and laughter gone from her voice. "It's about time for us to go."

A quick glance at the wall clock hanging above our mantle place shows that she's right; the Reaping ceremony is slotted to begin in around a half hour. An involuntary shudder passes through my body at that thought.

"Right," Dad replies. "I'll go and get the house locked up." As he stands, he rests one of his strong hands on Sapphire's shoulder. "And remember: neither of you is going to be Reaped. We put in for less tesserae this year, and our district always has volunteers. Neither of you has anything to worry about."

"He's right," Mom pipes up. "You two will be fine. We'll have a picnic out under the oak when we get back, all right?" Several more pinpricks of water spring to my eyes at that statement. This time, I don't even bother wiping them away.

"Jade, can you help Sapphire get her sandals on? Your Mom and I'll get things ready to go."

"Yeah," I nod, wiping away the tears with the back of my hand. "Yeah, I'll help her get ready."

Dad nods in gratitude, walking down the side hallway towards the bedrooms alongside Mom. I grab Sapphire's leather sandals from their spot beside my heels, and kneel down at her feet to begin sliding them on.

"Jade?" Sapphire says, wiggling her foot into the sandal. "We're going to be okay. Even if one of us is Reaped, there's always a ton of volunteers. There really isn't any chance of either of us going to the Games."

I let the straps of Sapphire's sandals fall to the side, her words sinking into my brain. If I don't get a hold of myself, my mental floodgates will break and I'll be an emotional wreak. Just gotta keep this act going for a little bit longer… but I need something to help me get through this. Anything.

"Hey Sapphire?" I inquire. "Can I borrow your necklace?"

"For what?"

"I just… I just want something to give me good luck at the Reaping today. Kinda like a charm or something."

"Yeah, of course!" Sapphire exclaims, shakily reaching her hands behind her neck and undoing the metal latch of her necklace. I slowly take the piece of jewelry from her hands, holding the stone lightly in my hands. The necklace was a childhood gift that Dad had bought for my 14 year old sister; a dazzling blue sapphire dangling from a simple black chain. He'd bought me an identical necklace, only with a shard of jade rock replacing the sapphire. I guess that was one of the perks of being named after a mineral.

"Umm… Jade?"

I glance up from Sapphire's necklace, placing a hand on my sister's knee. "Yes?"

"Would you mind if I held onto your necklace? That way we can both have good luck today, and neither of us will get Reaped!"

"Definitely," I weakly smile, unclasping my own necklace and placing it in Sapphire's hands. "Do you think you can clasp the necklace yourself?"

"I think so," Sapphire responds, placing the chain of the necklace around her neck and fiddling with the catch. "Thank you Jade."

I smile, pulling my sister into an embrace. "We're both going to be fine," I whisper, feeling several tears tumble down my cheeks. "We're both going to be just fine."

**District 1: Town Square**

* * *

**District Resident Vanity Glass**

* * *

Damn, do I feel good today.

I ultimately decided that a simple tuxedo and a bit of hairspray was all that was needed to convey my superiority and show that I was ready for these Games. And it seems my outfit has done the trick. The five minute walk from the Glass household to the town square had already earned me several looks of admiration and jealousy from my peers. They wished they could be as dominant as I… but not everyone is born to lead.

"Hey, Vanity! Wait up!"

I turn around, watching as Brass Callous jogs across the smooth pavement of the road towards me. Brass has been one of my most devoted followers throughout my rise to power; ever since we were little kids, he's been one of my most devout supporters. Granted, he's about as stupid as Shaila and he has little care for other's perspective of him (as could be seen from the absolutely disgusting bright green tuxedo he was currently wearing), but he's loyal to a fault and nearly my equal in combat. I could have ended up with worse.

"Hello Brass," I smirk, patting the shorter boy on the back. "Did training go well this morning?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Teachers didn't push us that hard, considering we've got another year until they decide which of us will volunteer for next year's Games. But where were you? Instructor Bradley was saying that he wanted to get some extra axe combat practice in with you before you left for the Capitol."

"Eh, I'm good enough at axes. You seem to forget I've trained half my life for this, Brass. Besides, Shaila and I got it on last night; it wouldn't be a very gentleman-like act to leave the girl alone in bed, now would it?"

"You finally did it with her? Congrats, Vanity!"

"Oh, it wasn't that hard. None of them can resist my irresistible charm for long. You could learn a thing or two from my dating habits." I smile down at Brass, but it's a fabricated facial gesture. That boy is socially pathetic, and I'm sure he knows it. However, any thoughts of ill will towards Brass instantly leave my head when we step onto the cobblestones of District 1's town square.

All about us are lines of well-dressed and excited teenagers, chatting wildly to one another as they waited to register. The few parents who did show up for the Reaping are standing in clusters around the edges of the square, drinking from glasses of champagne and having an absolute ball of a time. Ever since the Reaping became a voluntary activity for anyone outside of the Reaped age group, most adults preferred to stay at home and hold annual Hunger Games parties. It's nothing new or out of the ordinary, but the thrill and excitement of knowing that this whole event was being held in my honor gave the Reaping a whole new level of emotion. I can feel the excitement boiling within me, a boiling cauldron about to burst.

Sign-ins are an absolute bore; Brass and I wait our turn in line for a seated Peacekeeper to prick our fingertips with a handheld mechanical device and check our names off of a clipboard before heading off into a large coral of glass fences making up the right hand side of the square. As we stroll past the large electrical sign reading "MEN, I can feel that excitement, that energy, continuing to grow within me. I am so close to achieving what I have worked my entire life for.

But the wait within the corral quickly turns from five minutes to ten, and ten to fifteen. I waste time by chattering with several of my peers standing nearby, but it's small talk; meaningless chatter. It's simply there to pass the time until-

"Ladies and gentlemen of District 1." The voice of Governor McAdams booms across the town square, cutting of my thoughts. "Please give a warm welcome to your very own District Escort, Stellas Berghatta!" Festive horns and trumpets overlay the screeching sound of the Justice Building's twin iron doors sliding open, revealing our district escort.

It's finally happening; the Games have come.

**District 1: Town Square**

* * *

**District Resident Jade Hale**

* * *

"Please give a warm welcome to your very own District Escort, Stellas Berghatta!"

I can't help but cringe at the overly peppy music blaring from the speakers installed along the corners of the Justice Building. I never will understand why my district treats this whole damn event like a party, absolutely oblivious to the twenty-three lives that will soon be lost. But speaking of peppy, here comes Stellas Berghatta.

Our district escort is dressed almost entirely in dark purple today; her hair is dyed purple and done up in a curled bun, a long purple dress sweeps around her lithe frame, and sparkly purple high-heeled shoes bounce along the concrete floor of the Justice Building's front balcony. Her manicured hands wave out at the cheering crowd, and an ugly, fake smile adorns her face. What an awful woman.

Stellas slowly steps up to the microphone set up between the two massive Reaping bowls. "Thank you for the warm welcome!" she booms, voice silencing the rambunctious crowd. "I always have loved this beautiful District.

"But I suppose we might as well get on with the primary festivities. Our dear President Cordelia Knighton would like to wish everyone a happy and safe 148th Hunger Games, and would like to thank Panem's hard-working tributes for their contribution to the peace of our glorious country. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever." Stellas flashes another of her false smiles at the crowd.

"We all know how the Reaping works, so I might as well skip right to the unveiling of your proud tributes. Let's start with the girls."

Oh god, I can't do this. I can't volunteer. I can't volunteer. I can't-

"I volunteer."

The words slip quietly, unconsciously from my mouth. It takes me a moment to comprehend what I just said, but when it sinks in I raise a hand to my lips. Oh my God. There's no going back now. I did it. I said it, those two simple but powerful words.

"Did I hear a volunteer from out there?" Stellas questions. "Come on up here, don't be shy."

I walk slowly forward across the now silent town square. Around me, I can hear angry whispers and accusatory mutters. "Why did she volunteer?" "Who even is she?" "We can't just let some random girl go into the Games to lose!" "Wasn't Pratis supposed to volunteer for the girls this year?" At one point a girl, presumably Pratis, lets out a loud shout of, "What the hell are you trying to do, stealing my glory? This is my moment to shine, so you'd better-"

A warning glance from a Peacekeeper quickly silences her.

My slow, echoing steps eventually carry me up the stone steps of the balcony, bringing me to a halt alongside Stellas. The escort places her hand on my shoulder, bringing the microphone close to my face. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"My name is Jade. Jade Hale," I say, trying to sound as confident as possible. But I avoid the spot near the back of the crowd where I know my parents are facing, I can't look down where Sapphire is sure to be. Stay calm. Stay composed.

"Well you seem to be quite the lovely girl, Jade," Stellas smiles. "And now to pick the boys-"

"I volunteer!"

I turn out towards the audience, watching as a tall boy steps out from the crowd. He's the typical District 1 tribute; cocky, arrogant, so full of himself. A sneer seems to be permanently fixed across his, admittedly, handsome face. But a pretty face like his doesn't mean anything if the personality inside is ugly.

The boy saunters up the steps and stands on the other side of Stellas. "My name is Vanity Glass, and I am District 1's next victor," he announces loudly into the microphone. Several cheers and shouts accompany this statement. I guess this means I won't have the support of my district.

"Well District 1, you heard it here first," Stellas smiles. "May I introduce your tributes for the 148th Hunger Games; Jade Hale and Vanity Glass! Shake hands, you two."

Vanity's thick, meaty hand wraps around mine and pumps it up and down. "You're actually really good looking," he whispers. "It really is a shame that I'm going to have to see you die in the arena this year. If things had been different, we could've been the next big couple."

Those words incite something in me, some primordial feeling of rage. For the first time today, my timidness gives way to anger. "I would never want to be seen with a disgusting, arrogant person like you," I hiss back, letting go of his hand. "Do us all a favor, and kindly shut the hell up."

I take inward victory at the look of shock that crosses over Vanity's face. And that inward victory gives me a tiny bit of hope.

Hope that I just might come home.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: First off, I want to apologize for the long delay it took to get this chapter out. School has been really hard lately, and I've had some personal things to deal with, but now that I've gotten everything smoothed out I should be uploading on a much more regular basis from now on.

Question for the reviews is what do you think of these two tributes? Do you think either could win the Games this year? As always, thanks so much for your support and for reading what I put out. See you soon!


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